


never easy

by martainez



Series: how to have joy when christmas is hard [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Goodbyes, Hugs, M/M, and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 08:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17118236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martainez/pseuds/martainez
Summary: Dan and Phil sharing a lovely goodbye-hug (and the realisation that it never gets easier.)





	never easy

“You better text me every second of every day,” Phil says, he expected it to come out as a joke, with his voice full of humour, but in the reality, it sounds just as needy and desperate as he feels. 

They’re standing in the hallway of the Lester household, arms wrapped tightly around each other. Dan’s already dressed in his _slightly-too-cold_ winter coat, and his shoes are tied in tight ribbons. Phil, on the other hand, is still wearing his pyjama bottoms and a cosy, lie-in shirt. 

It’s time for their ‘Merry Christmas and goodbye’ hug. Undoubtedly Phil’s least favourite hug of the year.

It means they won’t see each other for a good few days. It means he’ll have to fall asleep all alone in a cold bed. It means Dan won’t be by his side. 

“It’s literally your fault we’ll be apart for this long,” Dan says, he’s obviously joking, just wanting to lighten up the mood a little. But it still manages to sting somewhere deep in Phil - it stings because it’s true. Because of course, Phil had thought that this year would be different, that he wouldn’t be all clingy to Dan, no, because this year he would actually enjoy the few days he had to spend alone, without his partner. But no, nothing’s changed since last year. It still feels just as bad.

The emotions is almost too much, he feels them creeping up on him, threatening to spill out through his eyes. He wants to wipe his eyes free from them, but he also doesn’t want to let go of the grip he has on Dan. He decides on letting the tears fall, this year, after all, has been all about _not_ keeping your feelings to yourself. 

That’s why he decides to voice his thoughts, because he knows it’ll make both Dan (and maybe even Dan’s therapist) satisfied with him.

“I thought this was supposed to get easier,” he mumbles. Dan, who clearly can hear his watery words, lifts his head to look him in the eyes. 

“Baby,” he coos, “don’t cry”.

“After nine years, I never thought it would still hurt this bad watching you leave”. 

Dan lifts his hand to let his thump gently stroke underneath Phil’s eye to stop more tears from running its way down his cheek. 

“I’d be more scared if you felt happy about me leaving,” Dan says, his voice is light and a smile is spreading on his lips. It’s contagious, as Phil can’t stop the tiniest of a smile spreading on his as well. 

He snorts and hugs Dan a little tighter, lets his head rest in the crook of Dan’s neck.

“I’ll miss you,” he mumbles into the skin. 

“I know”. 

“Because I love you”.

“I know”.

There’s something therapeutic about hearing someone confirming that they’re aware of what you want them to know. One of Phil’s biggest fears, back in 2009, was that Dan wouldn’t understand how much he meant to Phil. How much Phil loved him, and how much he would sacrifice to be with him. He was scared that Dan wouldn’t feel loved or wanted and that the would leave. And never return. 

But standing here, in his family’s doorway, breathing in the smell of his Dan, Phil felt no such fears.

“I’ll text you pictures of Collin, and unnecessarily detailed descriptions of my nut roast. Yeah?” Dan says.

“Yeah. And when you get back home, text me what you’re doing, what you’re eating-“

“And what I’d rather be doing _to_ you?” Dan chuckles. 

Phil can’t help but laugh at his silly comment. He knows Dan’s, once again, trying to lighten the mood. And it’s working, because Phil’s no longer crying, he’s just standing there holding his man. And he’s so thankful.

“That too. But don’t make it explicit, don’t want mum to choke on her mince pies if she happens to be reading over my shoulder,”

“That wouldn’t help with my future-son-in-law points, would it?” 

“Nah, I think she’d much rather prefer overhearing a Skype call where you praise me for being the most loving person in your life”.

“Oi, don’t get your hopes up, mate”.

“Too late,” Phil chuckles, he leans in to give Dan a peck on his lips, but retreats shortly to give him a serious look instead.

“For real, Dan, if you want me back home early, just tell me. I’ll be on the first flight, okay?”

Dan answers by leaning in to peck him again, this time on the nose.

“Okay”. 

There’s a sound of a horn in the background interrupting their intimate moment. Phil sighs loudly, there’s no need to hide the irritation that comes with the interruption. 

“That’s my ride,” Dan says and smiles sadly. He loosens the hug slightly, just enough so he can get a good look at Phil’s eyes. 

“I love you,” he says and leans forward to catch Phil’s lips in a kiss. It's not heated or hungry, just lovely and soft. _A goodbye kiss at its finest._

Dan’s the one to pull away, he does it way quicker than he’d wanted to, but the taxi driver is honking again, and he really doesn’t want to miss his flight. 

But when he sees Phil’s big, sad eyes, he can’t help but lean in again for another one. This one is, if possible, even shorter, and Phil whines quietly when Dan’s pulls away once again. 

“I need to go, see you back home, baby,” he says softly as he lets go of Phil completely and gathers his suitcase in his hand. Phil nods understandingly and reaches to open the door for him. 

A quick peck on the lips and then Dan’s out. He’s already made it halfway to the taxi, slowly making his way away from Phil. 

“Don’t forget to text,” Phil yells as a last goodbye. He doesn’t get an answer, but just as the taxi pulls away from the street, his phone vibrates.

> **Daniel Howell,** _09:47_
> 
> I won’t 

**Author's Note:**

> i need a hug


End file.
